Traditional Culture Encyclopedia - Hotel accommodation - Translated from Yi Ke Wuchang

Translated from Yi Ke Wuchang

original text

Hong Wu Yi Hai, Yu Ke Wuchang. Mr. Jiang Yinxi in Wuchang, who is in his eighties, is a very good Taoist book. His son is upright and can write poems. They are all very generous. However, I don't hide it, I don't make friends for nothing, and the rest are all me.

It's the first day of March. There are more than three people, four or five boys, and dining tables. Before dawn, go east, cross the Hongshan Temple for two miles, turn north, cross the path for ten miles, cross the pine forest and wade the stream. The water is crystal clear and the ship can float in the depths. There is a stone next to it, where more than a dozen guests live. Pine, cypress and bamboo trees are densely shaded. When the weather is sunny, the flowers and plants are blooming, the fragrance blows on the clothes, and the birds sing differently. So I swept the stone and sat down.

Sit for a long time and smell the sound of chickens and dogs. I'm going to stand up and cross the hill a few steps to the east. The field is flat and there are more than a dozen huts, so I built it. A 30-year-old man, over 70 years old, with plain hair like snow, shawl and shiny face, is an alcoholic. Take two more people. You have a batch of books, Gong Li found Liezi, and the rest got White Tiger Tong. It's hard to say. What does it mean to know, he said? It's useless for an old man. Come out of each other's arms

Sitting on a stone, pointing to Gu Tongzi, picking taro leaves as plates and carrying meat. Gong Li raised a pot of wine and handed it a few lines. Li Gong copied a chapter of seven-character modern poetry, and the rest were harmonious. After half a glass of wine, someone rode by, and my old friend Li Qianhu, Wuchang left-back, laughed in horror and drove away without dismounting. After a while, he came with a Taoist, so he thought about it. The scholar wrote a poem called "The Real Life of Taiyi". Yu Fu's Five Words Ancient Chapter is a book. I stand ready to do nothing, but I drink and drink Taoist priests. The Taoist priest can't win. Thanks, everyone laughed. Li played some tunes on the pipa. Bend the bamboo upright, blow with your eyes wide open and make a flute sound. There is no hidden stream of music, Su Wuman. The Taoist priest danced and wandered around, followed by two boys clapping and jumping. Say that finish, the Taoist priest bowed again and said, why don't you write poems with the Taoist priest? Gong Li helped write a few quatrains, and the language was strange, so I thought about it again. I drank with Gong Li, and I was drunk when I was young.

The sunset is only a few meters away from Xifeng, and the undercurrent calls me back and says, why not enjoy yourself? So I said goodbye to Li and Taoist. The undercurrent in the middle road refers to Grain Rain at the foot of the roadside mountain, saying that that's where I camped. He also pointed to the peach blossom language on the roadside and said, call me next year to see flowers.

After coming back, Gong Li said: It is appropriate to remember when traveling. It belongs to leisure.

Winter came, hiding in the stream, I cried. Cold food next year, meet under the tomb. The rest of the diseases have no results. A few days later, I returned to Luling, made a farewell ceremony and began to write it down. If you haven't finished reading it, get ready to watch it and cry; I cried too, so I stopped. But I miss the friendship between Jiang and his son, and I have visited Wuchang landscape many times, but I was not happy about it, so I finally remembered it. Write it down by hand and leave a legacy.

I will travel next year, and I still remember the fifth child in August.

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Hongwu twenty-eight years, living in Wuchang. There was a Mr. Jiang Yinxi in Wuchang, whose ancestors were also from Luling. He is over eighty years old and loves reading Taoist books. My son Gong Li can write poetry. Both father and son are broad-minded people, who live in seclusion on weekdays, hide their ambitions and talents, do not associate with people casually, and only like me.

On the first day of March this year, the three of us took four or five boys and servants, wine and food, and went out for a long trip. Before dawn, walk east, walk about two miles through Hongshan Temple, turn north, walk about ten miles through the pine forest, and wade through the mountain stream. The water in the stream is so clear that a boat can swim in the depths. A boulder by the stream can seat more than a dozen people. Pine and bamboo, shaded by green trees, are very dense. At this time, the weather is fine, the weeds and trees are in full bloom, the fragrance is fluttering, and the birds are contending. So I began to clean the stone surface and sat on it.

After sitting for a long time, I heard a chicken barking and a dog barking. I told Gong Li to get up and took dozens of steps to the east. Over a hill, I saw a flat and vast field with more than a dozen huts nearby. So I went to visit. An old man in his seventies, with long hair like snow, draped over his shoulders and ruddy face, looks like a drinker. The old man invited us both to sit down. There are several sets of books under the window. Gong Li took out a Liezi and I picked up a White Tiger Hall. Everyone wants to take the book away, but it is not convenient to ask for it. The old man read our thoughts and said, these two books are useless to me. So, the two of us each held the book in our arms and said goodbye.

Go back to the stone and sit down. Assign boys to pick taro leaves as plates and put meat on them. Gong Li lifted the wine bottle gourd to pour, handed the glass and drank several rounds in turn. Gong Li improvised a seven-character modern poem, and I also wrote one. Halfway through the drink, a rider turned out to be my old friend Li Qianhu, the left-back of Wuchang. At first, he was surprised and smiled at each other, but he didn't stop and drove his horse away. Soon, he prepared a sumptuous dining table and brought a Taoist. So we drink with them. The Taoist priest took out a frame of "Taiyi Real Man" and asked us to write poems. I wrote a five-character ancient poem. Gong Li doesn't write, he just toasts Taoist priests. The Taoist priest couldn't bear it any longer. He bowed down and begged for mercy, which made everyone laugh. Li Ganhu took out his pipa and played a few songs. Gong Li also broke a bamboo, drilled several holes, and then played it, making a sound as sweet as a flute. The old man in Silverstream couldn't help singing "Su Wuman" and spent a lot of money. The Taoist priest danced, and the two boys clapped their hands and jumped up behind him. Later, the Taoist priest bowed again and asked: Why didn't Mr. Li write poetry because he was poor? Gong Li wrote several quatrains, which are even more novel. So we started drinking again. Gong Li and I didn't drink much. We were both a little drunk.

Soon after, the sun went down, and it was only ten feet away from the peak in the west. Mr. Yinxi called us back and said, isn't there endless fun? So, we bid farewell to Li Qianhu and Taoist priests. On the way, Mr. Silverstream pointed to the foot of the mountain by the side of the road and turned to me and said, this is where I built my grave. He pointed to the peach trees on the roadside and said to me, Come and see me here when you enjoy the peach blossoms next year.

After coming back, Gong Li said to me: You should write a travel note on this trip. But I didn't have time to write this article.

This winter, Mr. Yinxi died unexpectedly. I cry and mourn. The following year's Cold Food Festival, Gong Li and I made an appointment to sweep the grave for the elderly. Unexpectedly, I was ill again and couldn't go as scheduled. Soon, I will return to Luling. When I leave, I will stay in Gong Li Palace to say goodbye, and then I will begin to remember my trip to Dongshan. I didn't finish reading it, so Gong Li took it and cried while reading. I couldn't help crying, so I stopped writing. But when I think of my deep friendship with Jiang's father and son, and that I have traveled in Wuchang many times, I have never been happier than this time, so I tried my best to complete this trip. I personally copied this travel book and gave it to Gong Li.

In the second year, I went to Dongshan for a spring outing, and I kept a diary on the third day of August.